


Of a Desolate Mind

by yaruna



Series: Of Years Gone By [18]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Legolas POV, POV First Person, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4930648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaruna/pseuds/yaruna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas POV</p><p>Wherein Legolas learns what drives him after a harrowing experience in the hands of orcs.</p><p>All parts of the series are stand-alone one-shots, though some may have references to previous happenings</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of a Desolate Mind

**Author's Note:**

> There will be torture! If you do not think you can handle it, do not read it.

I was silent when I woke. I had learnt, after the first few times, that it was safer to keep my mouth closed. As always lately, I had to open my eyes after having slept, although it did not matter, for all there was, was darkness. I did not know how long it had been since I had last seen the stars now; I had lost all concept of time. Not that time mattered much either; the orcs took great care to keep me captured within their caves and by now, two months might as well be two years.

The orcs were walking around, talking in their awful tongue, adding to the never-ending headache I had been having since they had captured me. One of them kicked at the bars to my prison, the harsh sound making me want to cover my ears and cower, but I kept still.

'You're awake!' It growled in Westron, but I kept silent. I was lying with my back against him after all; he could not see my eyes and was most likely merely guessing at my state of consciousness.

'You will talk.' I heard a smirk in his voice. 'Naga will make sure of it.' He laughed loudly, the orcs around him sniggering as well.

I closed my eyes. I did not know what more they thought they could do without killing me. They had broken my bones, multiple times. They had taken out all of my nails, which bloody well hurt worse than having a bone broken by the way. They had whipped me, they had stabbed me, and they had skinned big parts from me with their poisoned knives.

I heard a key being entered into the lock and turned. The clang of the door opening was ominous.

'What more can you do?' I rasped out. My voice was hoarse from screaming. I had long since given up on trying to escape when they unlocked my prison. I had no more strength; it was useless. The orc did not answer but just grabbed onto my hair and dragged. I did my best to get on my feet, but quickly realized that it hurt less being dragged by the hair than to put my sole-less feet on the ground, and so I stilled and let myself be dragged along the mud, to the pleasure of the orcs. Their laughter burnt its way through me and I swore I would kill every orc I ever saw if I got out of here.

They threw me onto a large rock and I saw a new orc come towards me with a broken off sword, and three metal plates. I frowned, trying to make sense of it, but either I was too exhausted to think, or my mind just did not want to make sense of it. Anything I came up with would not make any difference either way.

'Last chance before Naga begins.' Another orc sneered. 'Talk, where is Isildur's heir?' I spat at him, as I had done so many times before. It did not do anything, obviously, except for giving me a bit more self-gratification. Then something was said in black speech and the broken sword was pressed roughly between my ribs. I gritted my teeth through the pain and I felt tears fall down my cheek. The sword was withdrawn, and then fingers were digging through the open wound, and something else was pressed there. The pain flared and I screamed loudly as I felt myself start to convulse and finally gave in to the welcoming darkness.

...

When I woke again, I was on my side, on a cold, rough surface. Everything hurt, but I tried to identify just what they had done to me. There was a kind of tension between my ribs, where they had created that gaping wound, but also, I felt a similar kind of pressure over my heart and in my back.

I chanced opening my eyes then, and noticed that I was alone. And I was outside of my prison, still lying on the stone where I had last been aware of being. I could just barely feel the scent of fresh air mixed with the ugly smell of the orcs. But it was there, and I felt my hope rise. I could certainly gather enough resilience to get out now that they had given me such an amazing opportunity.

I moved my leg to put it on the ground, and bit my tongue to keep from screaming in agony and frustration. Something grated against my spine and I stilled, fearful of creating any lasting damage. Looking down on my chest, they had inserted a metal plate just above my heart, and if I fell forwards, I would certainly be pierced by it. Between my ribs was another metal plate, and I imagined that I could feel it sit against my lung as soon as I took a breath. I was sure they had done the same in my back, having one against my spine. I started to take a deep breath, but it hurt so badly, so I just collected myself and started to drag myself across the big stone, towards the smell of fresh air.

'Ah, you are awake.' An orc scoffed behind me. I felt like crying, but settled for a devastated sigh. 'Now, you will talk.' He laughed, and the orc that had pierced me with the broken blade came up and pressed me down, keeping me still.

'Where is Isildur's heir?' The orc spat, and put his rotting head in front of me, making me turn my head slightly to get away from the awful stench.

'There is no heir of Isildur!' I pushed out, surprised at the pain in my ribs and back as I talked. I had to take short breaths to avoid giving myself a punctured lung. But then the orc behind me was pressing against the metal in my back and I shouted. My mind went blank except for one litany: It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Father! Help! It hurts!

The orc let up and I could breath again. Father would not come. I could only help myself, but I could not do this! I just could not do this! I give up!

'Why do you not tell us what we want, Elf? We would give you relief.' He contorted his face in what could be similar to a smirk, and started to gently drag his finger across my metal plate over my lung. But gently or not, it sent shivers through me as I felt my insides shift to accommodate the moving piece.

'You would kill me?' I asked, and the longing I heard in my own voice frightened me. I knew then that I had lost hope. I had given up. I distantly heard the orc laugh, and he pressed hard against my metal plates again. I was going catatonic, it did not happen to me anymore, but to this strange, dying elf that was lying on the stone.

'Filth! He will not tell us anything! Let us just kill him!' One said and raised its sword over my head.

'No. I still have methods!' The one who had inserted metal plates growled, but I did not care anymore. No matter what they did against me, I would not give in, even though I had already given up.

They began shouting at each other in black speech then, and I floated off, the pain in my head just tipping off the scales and I fell into blessed unconsciousness once more.

…

'Legolas.' I heard whispered voices, and thought I was going insane for no orc had called me by name before. So I kept my eyes closed, for I did not know what kind of images I would see in the darkness of the caves. But it was rudely insistent, and I groaned in exasperation as my head continued to pound.

'Be quiet!' I breathed, the orcs would not understand either way.

'Legolas! Open your eyes.' A voice snarled angrily, and I finally did, for I had never heard an orc speak in flawless Sindarin before. I recognized the Elf that kneeled in front if me. It was Gwathon. I stared into his eyes, hoping that it truly was him. He held my gaze, but I could see the concern that was flickering in them. I did not think my mind could create a perfect image of Gwathon, and so I decided that he was truly there. I was relieved that it was he that had come for me. He could help me. He could give me relief.

'Kill me!' I ordered, after we had stared at each other long enough. The pain that entered his eyes almost made me lose my resolve, but I kept firm.

'Not yet, my prince, not yet! Allow me to save you first.'

'There is no saving me.' I said, and I saw the pain intensify in his eyes as he let his gaze travel my body. 'Kill me, please!' I pleaded, but could hold on no longer. It had probably just been a hallucination anyways.

The pain was worse than ever before, and it felt as though I was being moved. Something held me tightly, and I could feel a rocking motion below me. I was on a horse? Orcs do not ride horses.

'Legolas?' Someone asked, and I felt a rumbling beneath my ear while they talked. I tried to open my eyes, but the light was so bright that I had to squeeze them together again, and I burrowed my head against whoever was riding behind me. Even the slight movement of my head sent a jab against my spine. I think I made a noise, at least the small tightening of a hand around my shoulder suggested it. The metal plates apparently were still inside of me, and they were shifting uncomfortably.

'You should have killed me, Gwathon.' I whispered, having figured out who it was.

'No, princeling! We ride for Imladris. Just hang on.' He said.

His left arm was carefully wrapped around my back, hand on my shoulder, and his right held onto my legs. I was seated sideways in front of Gwathon on his horse. They had draped something over me, a cloak or similar. I did not have the heart to tell them that the fabric grated against my open wounds and was jarring my metal plates.

I could not avoid thinking, wondering, what would everyone think, even if I did survive. I had been captured. I had been tortured. I had given up! I had nothing more to give. I did not want to face a continued life. I did not want to face anyone in Imladris. I did not want to face my father! I had been supposed to die!

I carefully brought my left hand up towards the metal plate in my heart, and pressed against it lightly. The pain made me gasp and Gwathon gave a small squeeze with his hand on my legs, obviously not aware of what I was doing. The metal plate would not pierce my heart easily, I realized. It was probably duller than I had thought initially. I let my hand drop dejectedly.

'How far?' I groaned? Maybe I would not survive the trip anyways. I felt blood still running from me, and as soon as I moved crusts broke and new blood started oozing out. I should be healing, but I could feel that I wasn't, at least not quite as normally.

'Just a day longer, just hold out for a day.'

'Not sure I can.' I whispered and felt Gwathon swallow.

'I have never known you to give up, prince.' He said, obviously trying to push me on, to make me try. But he did not know that I had given up already. I could not live with this pain. I was so cold that I did not think I would ever be able to feel warmth again. Not even the rays of the sun were warming me. The wind added to the chill, but I think it went deeper than that; it went straight into my soul.

'Can we not go faster?' someone asked off to the side and I felt Gwathon shake his head.

'The…' he swallowed, 'the metal in him could kill him with a wrong move.'

'I don't care.' I said wearily. 'The stars are lost to me yet.' Gwathon sighed exasperatedly. I was upsetting him, and I truly did not want to do that. Maybe I could live to Imladris at least. The motions of the horse and the exhaustion from the constant pain finally took overhand and I let go once more. Maybe I would not wake up again.

...

'What happened?' A horrified voice asked loudly, waking me, and I felt movement stop.

'Do not touch him!' Gwathon said hurriedly and I felt the cloak about me carefully being removed. It stuck to my body in so many places, every time he had to rip at it to make it come loose, which made me flinch in pain.

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' He kept saying as a litany as he held me close.

When finally the cloak fell off my shoulders, there were a few horrified gasps, and hands were touching me, making me flinch away from every new pressure put against my raw skin.

'Carefully! Don't jolt the metal!' Elrond's voice said. He'd obviously seen just where the metal plates were located, and knew what would happen. Which gave me the next idea.

I started thrashing. Wildly! I did not care that I would now bleed even worse, or that the pain would rise even higher, for I would be rid of it soon. I felt their hands slip, and I was elated. Finally! I dropped to the ground.

And I felt hands touch my shoulders as I fell, bringing me around, making me fall on my side. The pain that went through my body was nothing against the depression I felt. I just kept on failing every time.

'No.' I sighed in dismay, and finally opened my eyes a crack. The light still hurt, but I could see when Elrond turned my head slightly upwards, so he could look into my eyes.

'Let me die.' I pleaded with him, and he looked at me in sadness.

'No.' He answered firmly, with steel in his gaze, and I felt a tear fall. He softened and gently pushed my hair that had fallen over my face behind my ear. 'Sleep now.' He whispered, and I did.

...

I was silent when I woke. I had learnt, after the first few times, that it was safer to shut up. As always lately, I had my eyes closed when I woke, although it did not matter, for all there was, was darkness, so I kept them shut. I did not know how long it had been since I had last seen the stars now; I had lost all concept of time. Not that it mattered much; the orcs took great care to keep me captured within their caves.

The orcs were walking around, talking with each other in hushed voices. I frowned when I realized they were not speaking in the black speech. They were talking in Sindarin. What had happened? I dared risk opening my eyes, but shut them tightly again when light blinded me, turning my head slightly. Even that movement made pain flash over my body. I heard curtains being closed, at the same time as someone touched my shoulder, making me flinch.

'Do not touch him.' I heard a familiar voice, and I tried to open my eyes again. I had to blink several times, but was finally able to see blurry faces above me. I licked my lips to take away the dryness of them, and realized they were completely raw, and all the torture I had been through came back to me.

I wanted to curl up and cry, but I could not.

'They know.' I hissed instead.

'Hush, Legolas.' Elrond said, putting his hand over my forehead, which was probably the only place the orcs had not visited with their knives.

'They know he lives.' I said, willing him to understand, but I heard a gasp from outside my field of vision. I immediately understood who it was and berated myself for having said something without making sure Estel was not around.

'No! Estel!' I called and moved my arm in preparation for sitting up, but could not even manage that small movement without crying out in pain.

'No!' I heard Estel groan desperately from the corner where I could not see him. I heard him sit down.

'Legolas. Be still!' Elrond said and held up a bowl of  _athelas_  for me to breathe in at the same time as he carefully put one hand on my forehead, and one over the now stitched wound over my heart. He chanted words I could not understand, but it did give me a slight relief, at least lessening the constant ache, but it did not stop it completely. Every part of my body still ached, every touch, every move, and every pressure sent waves of pain.

Once he stopped chanting, he looked into my eyes steadily. Normally, I would have returned his gaze, but it felt as though his scrutinizing stare was unraveling me at the seams, and I turned away. I heard him sigh, but I could not gather up the strength to actually care.

...

I was still in pain weeks after I had arrived in Imladris; the poison, and the sheer length of time during which my skin had been almost completely removed from my body, made the healing take longer than usually. Probably the fact that I was pretty much despondent had something to do with it as well. Elrond had spoken to me many times, but none other had been in my room after I had woken that first time. I had felt a twinge of worry that the orcs had managed to get to Estel after all, but Elrond has assured me that he was fine, and I could get back to just not caring again.

My father had arrived after some time. He had knocked and called out to me tentatively, but when I did not respond, he had gone into my room. I had not looked at him. I did not wish for him to see me. He was angry with me, and under normal circumstances I would have felt ashamed for my behavior, but I just could not care.

'Legolas?' Elrond asked from outside the door and I sighed.

'Leave me alone.' I said, looking out the window from the bed.

'I will not.' He said, as always, and entered. He seemed to think it bad for me to be left alone during a longer amount of time, and he had taken it upon himself to keep me from being lonely. Maybe my little stunt when arriving in Imladris had something to do with that.

'I will not kill myself.' I muttered.

'You already are.'

'What?' I turned to look at him.

'You are killing yourself, Legolas. Maybe your body will not die, but you will be dead all the same.'

'Maybe it is for the best?' I muttered and turned away again, seeing the birds flying in the sky, and two squirrels rushing up the tree outside the room. The old me would have smiled, but I just felt an immense sadness.

'It is not. But you must let yourself heal.'

'Is that not what I am doing?' I said angrily turning my head his way. 'I am lying here; I have not done a thing to try to get away. What more do you want?'

'I want you to start moving around.'

'Whereas normally you would keep me confined to the bed when I am in this kind of condition?' I snarled and he sighed.

'You have healed enough to at least go to your balcony. You have healed enough to have company!'

'I do not want for company.' I sighed, not able to hold onto my anger.

'You may not want for it, but you need it.' He said gently.

'I know not why you still care to treat me.' I muttered, tears in my eyes. I felt so frayed; I did not have any control over my emotions, and this was one of the reasons as to why I did not want to see anyone.

'Legolas. You are as dear to me as my own sons. I would be able to stop treating you about as easily as I could cut out my own heart.' He said gently and my tears fell. I heard him leave, for which I was grateful, and I just cried. I was not silent when I cried. I sniveled and I think that I screamed, and when I could not scream anymore, the tears were still falling. I think I was still crying when I fell asleep.

...

My father sat next to me when I woke up, gently stroking with his thumb over my hand. I shivered and he immediately removed his hand.

'I am sorry, ion-nîn.' He said, looking into my eyes.

'No, it did not hurt.' I smiled, and realized I was speaking the truth.

'And still, I am sorry.' He said, making me look at him more closely.

If I felt frayed, he looked it. Something was troubling him, and it was more than me being in the condition I was.

'You did not need to have sent someone for me.' I said sadly, and he stiffened.

'I did.' He just said tightly.

'What if I had already been…'

'Hush!' He snarled, making me flinch away slightly. I immediately wanted to apologize because he looked so lost, but he held up his hand so that I would be quiet as he continued to speak. 'It would not have mattered.' He said. 'I could not leave you with orcs, no matter what the outcome would have been. I will always put you above anything else.'

I looked to the ceiling, feeling tears close to falling again, but I was so sick and tired of them and managed to keep them at bay.

'I think… I shall want to feel the wind in my hair.' I said pleadingly and when I had gotten my own leaking eyes under control, I looked at him and I thought I saw a small tear in his eye.

'Of course.' He said, and he helped me sit up. It was a slow process, and I felt dizzy once I was sitting. But we rested, and then took small steps to the balcony. It has only ever been five steps away, but if felt as though it was fifty leagues. But we made it, and we sat down on the sofa, where I just had to breathe, leaning slightly against my father.

Just breathing in fresh air again, without smelling the awful stench of orc, made me feel more normal. Still not quite where I had been, but I would get there in time.

'You are my world, Legolas.' My father said then and I stopped leaning on him to look at him in surprise. He turned his gaze to me, and I could see how red-rimmed and swollen his eyes were. We probably matched, truly father and son. He looked weary and I realized he had not gotten much sleep, if any.

'More than life itself, I love you.' He said, and I swallowed. I am nearly five centuries old, but I had no memory of ever hearing or seeing my father so open and vulnerable.

'And I love you, ada.' I said easily, realizing how true it was, and he opened his arms hesitantly. It took no more than that for me to find myself hugging him tightly. He was careful, in the beginning, but pretty soon, he was clutching me tightly. He said nothing, but he was shaking ever so slightly, and wetness spread on my shoulder. I was horrified. My father, the king of Mirkwood, was here, crying in my arms, and I just held on to him. He clenched to me, as though afraid I would slip away at any moment. I was ashamed then. I had not considered his feelings if I were to die. A new feeling of warmth came over me and it was love. I shivered as it clashed with the chill that had occupied my heart for the last few months.

'I am sorry.' He muttered, and we unraveled from each other. I opened my mouth to speak, but he stood up. 'I must leave, let us get you back inside.'

'I would like to stay.' I said pleadingly and he looked at me intently before he nodded.

'I will ask Elrond to come back in a while.' He said and I heard him leave, but I was focusing on the nature. I could feel the waves from the trees, and though I still felt cold, chilled to the bone, their warm waves tried to snake their way through my fragile shell. Maybe I could do this? Maybe I could be brought back from the brink of death? Did I deserve it?

'Legolas?' Estel asked, worriedly, from the opening to the balcony, and I turned to him. He stayed there, uncertain, almost looking like he had when he was younger and had cut branches off of my tree. Like he was certain that he had done something wrong, and not knowing quite how to fix it.

'Come, Estel.' I said, forcing a gentle smile, just like I had done that time. He walked carefully and sat down next to me, and we just looked into each other's eyes.

'You are not at fault, Estel.' I said, and he looked down on his hands. I reached out and lifted his chin up. 'You are hope. You are worth protecting.'

'You wanted to die.' He accused.

'I had a momentary lapse.' I chuckled and he glared at me.

'Please, do not joke. You were not joking then. I heard you tell Elrond…' He swallowed.

'I did not think I could face you all. I was ashamed.' I still was, but my resolve had to be to protect my family. Estel is a part of that family.

'Ashamed?'

'I had been captured by  _orcs_! I had let them do all these…  _things_ … to me. I never wanted you to see me so weak.'

'You're never weak, Legolas!' He said vehemently. 'You are the strongest I know!'

I wanted to object, but there would be no point to it, he would not let it go.

'I know you do not believe me.' He said, and I chuckled at how well he knew me. 'But all I can do is tell you. Elladan and Elrohir are also in awe of you.'

I snorted. I could maybe extend to thinking that Estel was moderately impressed by me, since I had somehow become his hero when he was younger, but to hear him say Elladan and Elrohir admired me just sounded absurd to me.

'He is not lying.' Elrohir said from the door, making me look at him and see him with a small smile on his face.

'No, you have us adequately impressed. I never knew that was the appropriate way to handle orcs.' Elladan looked over the shoulder of his brother, and oomphed when he was hit in the stomach by said brother.

'Says the one who handles orcs through running away.' I chuckled, and Elrohir looked slightly relieved that I had not broken apart in front of them.

'That would have been preferable I should think.' Elladan said with a pointed look at me, and Elrohir stepped his brother on the foot.

'Ouch!' He cried and put his foot in his hand.

'One would think, that you had learnt  _something_  during your life, but you are about as tactful as Estel was when he was five!' Elrohir hissed, and led his brother out.

'Legolas!' Elladan called before they were out of our sight, and they both turned around to look at me in joy. 'It is nice to see you smile!'

Estel and I looked at each other and shook our heads at the same time, but then his gaze became just a bit more intent and he stood up.

'You are tired.' He declared.

'I am.' I smiled, but made no move to get up.

'I will help you back to bed.' He said, and I smiled a bit self-depreciatingly.

'You may have to.' I muttered. 'I think I broke quite a lot of skin getting here the first time.' I looked up at him, putting my foot on my knee so he could see the damage, and chuckled when I saw the horrified look on his face.

'You have to tell us.' He said, and scooped me up into his arms, a bit too easily to be honest.

'I thought I just did.' I smirked, and he seemed to be about to drop me down on the bed, but thought better of it and put me down quite carefully instead.

'You have to get better, so I can rip you a new one.' He grumbled and I chuckled, but the fresh air, and the exhaustion of moving for the first time in weeks quickly made me fall into a deep, and finally healing, sleep.

...

When my father was getting ready to leave was the first time I noticed that Gwathon was still around. I would not go with them to Mirkwood, for I could not stand the thought of being inside the caverns for a while yet.

'Gwathon.' I said, slowly making my way towards him, and he looked up in relief, and bowed.

'My prince.'

'You disobeyed me.' I said, sternly, and I saw a horrified expression go into his eyes.

'Thank you.' I continued with a smile. He chuckled, and pulled me in for a hug, which I happily returned.

Then my father made a noise behind us, making Gwathon release me quickly, and I turned around to face him.

'Are you certain you will be all right here?'

'I am.' I nodded.

'You come back when you are ready.' He said, before he also pulled me into a hug. 'I will visit if it takes too long.'

'Thank you.' I just said, for I had no words of comfort to say to him. I did not know how long it would take before I was healed. I still had a chill through my soul, that I was not entirely certain would ever disappear. But I could feel warmth again, and I could feel joy. Although I did not feel it for myself so far, I felt it for others. I could live for their sake for a while. When I gave up, I had thought only of myself.

I had given up on myself; I could not give up on my family.


End file.
